A Grain of Truth
by lostcowgirl
Summary: While Kitty's on a buying trip to St. Louis and Matt and Chester are following a lead on a couple of horse thieves far to the south, Dodge City is overrun. Kitty is the first to return to the chaos that ensues. By the time Matt returns the gang is entrenched and Kitty isn't safe even in her room. This is an ATC to season 4's Thoroughbreds & Kitty's Rebellion.
1. Chapter 1 Pleasant Company

Chapter 1 – Pleasant Company

Kitty Russell desperately needed to get away. At least she'd saved Billy Chrit's life. Humiliating herself in front of everyone who happened to be in the Long Branch sent the boy scurrying back to New Orleans. However, the emotional aftereffects were akin to her being the debris left scattered about following a particularly devastating tornado. The only way for her to recoup her losses and set things to rights was to leave town. She and Dodge City could use her time away to fall back into habits that developed over nearly four and a half years. Those habits included how others treated her and she them. Her partner Bill, Chester, Doc and especially Matt were solicitous of her feelings. She was afraid her own mixed emotions about having any honor left to defend might destroy everything between them. The mere sight of the big marshal had caused her to stay in this ugly town, but his treating her as a lady had given her the courage to rise from saloon girl with all the designation implied to businesswoman.

Bill's respect for her business acumen and Doc's fatherly friendship contributed to her sense of self-worth, but it was Matt whose opinion mattered most. He was so proud when she bought a half interest in the Long Branch. She wanted that pride and the love it strengthened to continue. Kitty knew Doc understood, but did Matt? Even before she claimed she had no honor to defend he both treated her with respect yet wanted their relationship hidden. Part of her knew this was the outwardly totally confident man's way of dealing with his own inner turmoil. The stoic public servant doubted he deserved personal happiness until he rooted out all the killers and spoilers to prove his worth or died trying. That underlying belief that the badge came first led to countless broken dates, both public and private. This time she was the one who bowed out of a social function at the last minute. She told him she could no longer be his date for the Carlsons' barn dance because she'd away.

Two hours after seeing the disappointment on his face Kitty was riding the Santa Fe toward St. Louis to buy new clothes for herself and equipment and inventory for her business. She planned to be home in time for the first inrush of Texas cattle that would during the season cause the stockyards to be near bursting and swell Dodge City's population to at least three times its normal size. Still, emotionally she needed to take her time. Although she shipped most of the goods she'd purchased on the train, Kitty felt a slower means of travel was the best option for the return trip. As the only passenger for the nonce on the westbound stage, she had the luxury of being alone with her thoughts. Perhaps by the time she arrived in Dodge, she'd be ready to face those whose presence made it home.

The first leg of the route took her from the crowded bustle of St. Louis to a small stop for passengers living in the farms and towns to the west of that city. Only one person waited there. Kitty turned toward the new passenger, an older woman of medium height dressed in a black traveling outfit except for the pale ribbon on her bonnet, who sat opposite her facing the way they'd come. The dark haired, except for a bit of gray at the temples showing under her hat, woman addressed her as the coach picked up its pace leaving the small relay station a dwindling image to their rear.

"I overheard the driver telling the station manager the other woman going to Dodge City had three times my baggage. That must mean we've the same destination," the woman by way of simply making conversation.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this, but you seem like a sympathetic young woman," she added before continuing. "There's need for me to go, but I wonder why a woman like you would travel to there. I've heard the rumors about how wild and wicked a place it is. For the life of me I don't understand why Roy decided to farm even a very fertile piece of land in a disreputable place so far away from home, but he did. He left after my Philip passed and his older brother Dean took over running our farm outside Florissant. Dean and Loretta, even with their two boys under foot, don't need my help or that of his brother either. That ain't true for Roy's Clarissa. She needs help, it bein' her first and all. Here I am prattlin' on without introducin' myself. I'm Lydia Hoffmann. If you happen to live at our destination do you know my Roy and his Clarey?"

"I do and they're a fine couple. You have every reason to be proud of them and their prosperous farm west of Dodge along the Arkansas thanks to the work they put into it. I'm Kitty Russell," the fashionably attired redhead in a blue traveling ensemble that matched her eyes added, extending her hand to the older woman.

The two women passed the five rather boring days it took to cover 615 miles in congenial conversation. Kitty learned about Lydia's quiet life on a farm outside a town that like St. Louis had been around since 1764. Thus Florissant, incorporated in 1876, and the surrounding farms were far more established than Dodge City and its immediate environs. Founded nearly 100 years later her chosen home was even now not much more than a crossroads on the Santa Fe Trail when the railroad caused the few year-round citizens to decide the rough and tumble gathering spot for traders, trappers and buffalo hunters, and now Texas cattlemen, near Fort Dodge should be incorporated as the County Seat of sparsely settled Ford County.

Kitty did her best to put the best face she could on the ugly town of non-descript, mostly wooden buildings and dirt streets. Having learned her traveling companion was no teetotaler she let Lydia know of her half ownership in a saloon that was favored by Dodge's leading citizens. She neglected to tell her new friend most of the girls serving drinks were prostitutes and the customers during three quarters of the year were still mostly riff-raff that could afford the higher prices she and Bill charged for drinks or anything of a more personal nature. Hence, despite the time they spent riding together, Lydia Hoffmann learned little about Kitty Russell.

"Mrs. Russell, I have a couple of questions for you now that according to your estimate we're only a half-hour from Dodge City," Lydia said as their uneventful trip neared its end. "Is there a good doctor in town? Also, does the local law, if anyone claims that role, enforce real law or does he use his position as an excuse to intimidate, rob and kill?"

"Doc Adams is one of the finest doctors anywhere. In answer to your other question, United States Marshal Matt Dillon lives by the rule of law. His jurisdiction is a large one that includes all of Kansas and the adjoining territories to the west and south of Dodge City, his headquarters. He's made sure once it's brought to his attention that any lawman acting in the way you described within his territory is removed. By the way, I'm still Miss, but please call me Kitty."

Thirty minutes later the stage pulled up in front of the depot. The driver, Jim Buck, who took over in Pawnee, climbed down and opened the door to assist the two ladies, now on a first name basis, out. He handed them down into chaos.


	2. Chapter 2 Called Away

Chapter 2 – Called Away

Matt hated giving up on catching Burke and Keller as winter came on. Initially he thought catching them and their stolen horses would be easy despite the wily pair's two-week head start. They might think he'd been outfoxed, with no chance of learning the truth, but the marshal in Dodge still thought he could nab them until he and Chester had been chasing them for a month. Now, eight months later, in April 1871, Matt Dillon still felt foolish for grossly misjudging everyone involved. He never fully trusted the two men, but he'd trusted them more than the man they'd flat out told him they intended to kill, Jack Portis. Burke got away with murder on a technicality. However, what really stung was both men stole four of the dead man's horses, two of them thoroughbreds, right out from under his nose. It was entirely his fault. He'd sent them riding off. Despite traveling west instead of south toward Oklahoma Territory like he told them, at least they did get there eventually.

The two horse thieves neither advertised nor hid their trail until they sold the thoroughbreds to a railroad magnate's son. The recent Harvard graduate stopped in Denver while en route home to San Francisco via a private train, courtesy of his father. Since then, the pair Matt wanted brought to justice circled back south and east to the Washita River country where they began. That's where the thieves resurfaced on horses that didn't sport the Wineglass brand when the local law recognized them.

Matt crumpled the telegram Chester handed him in his right fist. Being made to look like a rank amateur still rankled, but not in the same way Kitty leaving did. She could console herself. He couldn't. Her humiliation prevented a killing. His misjudgments last fall caused a decent man he thought a thief to die and let the real thieves make a clean getaway. Despite receiving the wire that could rectify what he saw as a blot on his reputation as a smart lawman, not just a fast gun, Matt wished he'd left on the train with her yesterday. Tossing the crumpled message into the stove he thought back to last night's conversation in her room.

"Kit, how 'bout I come along? Dodge is quiet."

"Oh, Cowboy. Ordinarily I'd welcome the chance for the two of us to be together, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be very good company."

"The herds don't' start arriving for at least two weeks. We could use the time to be just another couple."

"Matt, I know what you're tying to do, but if anyone can understand, it's you. Normally I'd be the one to suggest we get away while we have a chance. Not this time. You've seen the looks since I let on I'd no honor to defend to save Billy's life. Sending the telegram and the letter that followed to his sister Lucy to explain what I did was easy. I didn't have to see the contempt in her eyes. I hope going to St. Louis to shop will help me come to terms with doing what I had to do. It's no different than you riding out alone on the prairie."

"If that's what you really want," he whispered resignedly, pulling her to him. "When are you leaving?"

Prolonging the time left to be together he escorted her to the depot after their breakfast at Delmonico's. Part of him wished he'd boarded this morning's eight o'clock train with her. Then he wouldn't have gotten this dang telegram. Who was he kidding? It wouldn't have made any difference. Matt knew Chester would have forwarded the dang thing to Spearville, the next stop along the train's route. It would have reached him there or the next town after that. The job always won. Anyhow, one thing was different this time. Kitty really needed to sort things out alone. If anyone could understand that need, he should.

It was still early enough for he and Chester to grab a quick bite before heading south toward Redmoon before noon. That little town in the Nations on land set aside for the Southern Cheyenne was a quiet spot considering white men increasingly referred to its location as Oklahoma Territory. As they rode farther duty to the badge became his primary motivation. He ceased consciously thinking about a missed opportunity to be with Kitty. Even so, finding a way to make time for just the two of them when both returned home remained in the back of his mind as he and Chester neared their destination. They'd made good time since leaving Dodge, crossing the Cimarron and finally moving past the Canadian River to the Washita River and Sheriff Benson's office.

"Yeah Marshal," Benson explained. "I'd nothing to hold them on, but I did try to keep an eye on those two while they were here. They left a couple of days after I sent you that wire. It's only been another day. They might still be close."

"Do you at least know which direction they took?" a frustrated Matt asked.

"Yep. Over toward Jack Portis's old spread. His foreman Paul Wilson's kept it goin'. He inherited it when you sent word of Portis dyin'. Burke and Keller don't know yah done that. They think they can con Wilson into believin' they own it. You might catch them at the old Heneghan cabin. The old man was a bit of a hermit except for his squaw so he hid his place behind a stand of trees down a trail you can only see if you're lookin' fer it."

The men they sought weren't at the cabin when Matt and Chester reached it, but there was ample evidence they'd return. There was plenty of grub in the kitchen and two bedrolls lay by the broad bed that remained from the days when Heneghan's Cheyenne wife was still alive. Like the accomplished hunters they were, Matt and Chester hid their horses and sat in their chosen blind to patiently wait for their prey to come to them.


	3. Chapter 3 Now's Our Chance

Chapter 3 – Now's Our Chance

The quiet that surrounded the couple on the April day when first she, then he and his assistant Chester Goode left Dodge City with only the unremarkable Shiloh to watch over it, was no different than most mornings. The rabble-rousers from the night before were still asleep. Mornings were like that even during the height of the influx of Texas cattle and all manner of hangers-on locals referred to as The Season. Knowing they wouldn't see each other for a couple of weeks, the marshal and his girl had eyes only for each other. Matt Dillon even risked a kiss before giving Kitty Russell a hand up the steps of the passenger car. He felt he could let his vigilance slip this once. Therefore, he didn't notice the eyes hidden in the shadows that followed him to and from the depot. Those same eyes remained on him as he rode south with Chester.

"Reckon they'll be gone fer long, Jake? The boss'll be happy if they are."

"I seen the tall law dog lock up the jailhouse. I reckon they'll be gone at least the rest of the day."

Still speculating, Hank Jones and Jake Garner made their way to the general store. Burt Scanlon hadn't sent them to Dodge City simply to scout out the town. He'd sent them for supplies as well. It didn't hurt to have a ready stash of beans and bullets in case of trouble. Besides, if the two strangers asked curious like, the man with the apron might just spill the information they sought. Sure enough, after a friendly exchange about nothing much in particular, Wilbur Jonas told them he didn't expect to see the marshal or his assistant in his store for at least two weeks. The law had bought a week's worth of trail provisions. It would be a long trip for the marshal. Dodge was ripe for the Scanlon gang's arrival.

Hank and Jake wasted no time returning to their upriver camp in a hidden canyon five miles away to make their report. Three hours later, as business picked up in the saloons and the about to close Dodge City Bank experienced a last minute rush, the entire bakers dozen of outlaws rode down Front Street four abreast with their boss in front like a cavalry officer leading his troop. Each group had a destination – the bank, the Dodge House and Jonas' store. Scanlon had it well planned. He'd be a lot richer and way more powerful while his boys were guaranteed to have lots of fun. Before the good citizens realized what was happening, he'd control every major business and have every one of the residents disarmed and poorer for the experience.

While four of his men stormed into the closing bank, Scanlon stood on the boardwalk in front of it, a rifle in one hand and six-gun in the other, ready to declare the new order. Simultaneously, four similarly armed men strode into the Dodge House and Jonas' store like they already owned them. When the outlaws emerged from all three enterprises with hostages, Boss Scanlon fired one shot from his pistol into the air to draw everyone's attention and began to explain the new reality.

"This flea-bit town is ours. We've cleaned out the bank and will keep 95% of any new wealth comin' in. Your best hotel and a supplier of necessaries are also ours. Shortly every other business, includin' the law will be our too. All you folks need do is follow my simple rules so your neighbors my men hold won't be kilt or beat. Remember, for each one eliminated, another will be chosen. Until you show you understand how it is, the citizens we hold will grace the cells in your fine jail. I'll be needin' the key. Seems your marshal locked the jailhouse door when he left. If whoever has it don't cough it up, I'll shoot a citizen at random 'til yah do."

Doc, who like everyone else had come out on the street, saw Shiloh hesitate. Matt must have slipped him the key and left the just as eager but even more ineffective man than Chester to look after things. He didn't want to take a chance on Scanlon giving him unwanted business by shooting his patients so Doc took action. The middle-aged little physician called to the outlaw.

"Matt may have taken it with him, but I've got a spare key in my office. Give me time to get it."

"Which office is it old man? I'll send Hank with you to make sure you don't try anything foolish."

"The one up those stairs behind me with the shingle. In case you can't read it, it says I'm the local doctor."

"If you were anything else, that remark would earn you a beating and jail cell. I've a feeling you'll be in too much demand for that."

By the next morning anyone riding into town was stopped before they entered a store, saloon or Moss Grimmack's stable and forced at gunpoint to hand over any weapons and valuables they carried but were allowed to keep some cash. Business owners could still collect that cash from their customers as long as 95% of the day's take went to the Scanlon gang. Scanlon's rules allowed for those who were leaving to get their guns back at the town limits. Any resistance to the rules meant a beating followed by time in a jail cell or worse for the person showing a bit of backbone or a family member. The most persistent objectors were shot. Whether it was fatal or not was pure luck.

Bill Pence was one of the first to learn it was no idle threat. He tried to defy them in front of everyone in the bar. For his trouble he was pistol-whipped when he tried to protect Long Branch girl Laura Simmons from the overly aggressive advances of one of the Scanlon gang without divulging she was anyone special to him. Doc, who was at the bar downing a whiskey, revived him. Laura's reaction told them threatening her was the best way to ensure Bill's cooperation.

Never one to be cowed by threats, Doc wondered how he could get word they needed help through to Fort Dodge or any nearby town with a lawman. He knew attempting to reach Matt was futile even if he and Chester weren't in far away in Redmoon. The good doctor thought he had figured a way to send a coded telegram to the fort when he wrote out a simple message, "Need medical supply delivery to curb dangerous outbreak affecting entire incoming troop." However, the illiterate henchman who intercepted it started in on Doc for daring the attempt. Scanlon stopped the ruffian was stopped before he could inflict any damage. The outlaw leader not too gently reminded his man, who wanted to tear into Doc the way he tore up Doc's wire, that the physician was a special case.

Strangers passing through on any of the stages or the Santa Fe passed off what they saw as probably necessary methods of law enforcement given Dodge City's reputation as the Gomorrah of the Plains. Those who'd been through town before simply wondered if the strong arm tactics were a reaction to Matt Dillon's methods not proving strong enough. If they had any further thoughts, it was to wonder if the tall marshal was replaced, incapacitated or even dead. Dodge City now lived up to its name.


	4. Chapter 4 Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 4 – Trials and Tribulations

Chester's short attention span was getting on Matt's nerves. Three hours of inactivity could make anyone fidgety. Waiting was trying the marshal's patience as well. However, losing concentration would bring disaster. After all these months he was too close to finally mending his grievous error by arresting Burke and Keller to lose them again. By force of will he managed to shush his assistant and get him back to his hiding place before the men they were hunting arrived.

Both men were well concealed when Matt heard a noise. His keen ears picked up the sound of a horse's hooves slowing to a clip clop and then stopping along with the creaking of not particularly well-oiled buckboard wheels. He nodded at Chester just as the two drifters strolled through the door, carrying a burden between them. The lawmen let them deposit the body, for that's what they carried, on the bed before making their presence known.

"Hold it right there! Raise your hands where I can see them," the marshal added before the surprised men could turn towards the sound, their right hands moving to the butt of their pistols. "Chester, take their guns," he ordered.

The presence of another man took all the fight out of the, until now, successful conmen. They knew the odds were stacked against them even at two against two. Once they were disarmed Matt allowed them to lower their hands and turn to face him.

"Marshal, what are you doing this far from home? Last we saw you were sendin' us on our way with our horses. You can't still be mad because we didn't let you arrest Portis?"

"Nope. I'm here to arrest you for horse theft, and murder if that man on the bed isn't breathin'."

"Oh him. He was with Portis. We only worked him over to keep him from stealin' more of my uncle's prize stock," Burke lied. "He'll come around."

One look at Matt Dillon's expression told the, until then, smug pair they were through. Two hours later those two were finally behind bars where they belonged and Paul Wilson was under the care of the local doctor, Horace Danvers. Although Redmoon, along the Washita River was at the far southern edge of Matt's territory, he decided it would be prudent to hold the trial there rather than Dodge. Burke and Keller would have less chance to escape. Besides, it would be quicker, even with waiting on the circuit judge and Wilson health to improve enough so he could testify. Matt expected to be home in time for the first of the herds to arrive. He and Chester might even pass some of them along the trail.

Matt and Chester used the time afforded them to relax. They were entering the hotel lobby after a leisurely, well-deserved meal in the only restaurant when Sheriff Benson caught up with them. He waved a telegram as he approached, a puzzled expression on his face.

"This has to be for you. As far as I know nobody else from Dodge City is in Redmoon."

"What's it say, Mr. Dillon?" Chester asked, seeing the frown on his boss's face.

Matt had every reason to frown if he understood Doc's wire correctly. The physician hadn't signed his name to the telegram he'd grabbed. Emmett Bowers had, but Bowers wouldn't be sending him a message about 13 sick stallions with that word purposely misspelled.

"Cowboy, M. D., Take care upon return. Newer hands don't trust old horse doctor to stick to assigned tasks. Need your special knowledge to take care of isolating 13 scanlons causing problems. Most vulnerable stock is especially at risk. Keep Kitten away if you can. Reply not useful. Emmett Bowers"

Matt was ready to rush back to Dodge as soon as he figured out what to say in a telegram to Kitty. It had taken four days to reach Redmoon and make the arrest. Luck had been with him until now, but it was running out. Now he'd be fortunate to save his town even if he and Chester rode their horses into the ground and managed to remain undetected by 13 outlaws. He'd never have left if he'd been warned the Scanlon gang was nearby. Benson could have made the arrest and held them until Matt could arrange to pick up Burke and Keller for trial. Now that they were in jail, the trial would have to be postponed. He'd wire Judge Cummings, who handled cases down here, about it when he sent the warning to Kitty. He fervently hoped she was still in St. Louis and would heed his warning.

Matt had taken two steps toward the hotel door when a well-dressed middle-aged man strode through it, heading straight for the three lawmen. He sported a salt and pepper mustache to match his nearly black hair that was white at the temples. The gentleman wasted no time asserting his authority.

"Hello Benson. I know you didn't expect me for a couple more days. Marshal Dillon," he announced, turning toward Matt. "In the interest of justice you and your assistant will remain here. I expect to begin the trial as soon as all concerned parties are able to testify. Before you ask, I checked for messages at the telegraph office before informing the clerk I'd be taking my usual room starting tonight."

"Judge, Wilson's in no shape to testify for at least several days. Meanwhile, matters in Dodge need my immediate attention."

"Sorry, Marshal. The coming trial is your priority. I'm sure you'll comply without me forcing Sheriff Benson to hold you and your assistant in contempt until after you've given your testimony."

Matt knew Cummings reputation. Once the judge declared his intentions he wouldn't back down. No matter how much he was needed at home, he and Chester were stuck in Redmoon. At least he could still warn Kitty. It was only then he became aware of the storm outside. By the time they were able to leave the hotel's storm cellar the next morning the telegraph wires were down.


	5. Chapter 5 Welcome to Gomorrah

Chapter 5 – Welcome to the Gomorrah of the Plains

As soon as she and Lydia Hoffmann stepped onto the boardwalk in front of the stage office Kitty noticed how much things had changed since she left. Her first thought was why was Matt allowing gunmen to patrol the streets? Their presence explained the lack of respectable citizens strolling the boardwalk to meander in and out of the various businesses on this early spring day. Despite her misgivings she dismissed the lack of children playing to this being a school day. Disquieted by her observations as she was, she attempted to hide those feelings from her new friend. Despite her effort to appear calm, Kitty hadn't succeeded. Lydia Hoffmann had eyes that told her all she'd heard about Dodge City was true. The older woman frantically searched Front Street for any sign of her son Roy.

"Kitty, I don't understand why he isn't here to meet me. I'm sure he got my letter."

"The mail can be unreliable sometimes. Besides a man with a farm and expectant wife can't get to town regularly to check the post office."

"Kitty," Doc called as he pulled his buggy alongside where the two women were standing, ignoring the gunman leaning against the post office wall. "Who's the lovely lady with you?"

"Curly," she cried not waiting for him to climb down before rushing toward him. "This is Lydia Hoffmann. She was expecting her son Roy to meet her."

"We can talk later over supper at Delmonico's. First I have a duty to perform. Mrs. Hoffmann, I'd be pleased to drive you in Roy's absence. I was coming out to check on Clarissa anyway."

Kitty watched Doc help Lydia into his buggy after stowing her carpetbag and small trunk in back. She followed their progress west out of town, noting the gunman was no longer loitering. He'd untied a horse from the rail and was following the older couple. Taking one more look around, she feared this time it was more than that darned badge keeping Matt from her side. Resigned to being on her own until supper, the saloon owner picked up the bags and boxes she hadn't shipped in both hands and headed home to the Long Branch. Nobody stopped her, but Kitty sensed more than one set of eyes following her progress.

She came downstairs around six to survey the late afternoon crowd of mostly regulars grabbing a drink before heading home to their evening meal. Her thoughts turned black. If Matt were capable of doing anything those gunmen outside wouldn't be so conspicuous. Kitty went behind the bar to relieve Red. As she served up the drinks, the half-owner noticed only the gunman sitting with his back against the wall watching the door wore iron on his hip. While this wasn't unusual where she'd just been, it was highly irregular for Dodge City. She turned her attention to the batwing doors.

A man walked through them, but it was neither the rumpled older man she expected nor the tall man she hoped to see. This one stood halfway between Matt and Doc in height, had Matt's powerful build and was about the same age. Like Doc he sported a bushy mustache and like Matt his right hip featured a holster with a Colt Peacemaker. His swagger as he strode through those doors left no doubt that this was the man behind the differences in the town she'd come to call home for the past four and a half years.

"Hello there Red," he said pulling her toward the table in the back by the stairs set aside for her and her friends. Kitty's unwanted suitor pushed her into a seat, signaling for a bottle and two glasses before taking the chair on her right. From his new vantage point he could see the barroom from the opposite perspective of the man she'd already identified as one of his gang. "Hank and Jake told me they saw you and your man eatin' breakfast then seein' you off on the train. I trust you had a pleasant trip. Don't worry," he added seeing her frown. "I won't let my boys sample your private wares."

"That's kind of you, but I don't appreciate assistance from those who insinuate themselves into my business or presume to buy me drinks. I'd prefer you find a hog wallow, but even the pigs might be offended."

"You're feisty! Figures, what with that red hair of yours. Folks have become quite good at cooperatin' except when it comes to sharin' information about you and that big lawman. Then they're darned closed mouthed. Doesn't mean I didn't learn things. When the no longer so big man returns I'll make sure you'll make it easier for him to crawl before I put him out of his misery. Don't worry that pretty little head of yours," he cooed noting the momentary look of poor hatred. "I won't show you what a real man's like until he can watch. Until then you'll be closely guarded just like the doc, who let your name slip when he invited you to supper. By the way, my name's Burt Scanlon."

Kitty tossed her still full glass in the odious man's face. Scanlon angrily grabbed her arm before she could rise. He nodded at his man, who took hold of Laura Simmons. The ruffian pulled the brunette bar girl tight against him letting his drawn gun shift back and forth between Kitty's partner Bill and the employee he'd fallen for. Once Scanlon left his man holstered his pistol and released Laura.

Doc walked into the Long Branch 20 minutes later to escort her to supper. Although not easily frightened she looked around nervously to make sure none of her friends or employees were being threatened before rising from the seat she'd hadn't left since Scanlon forced her into it. Only after she and Doc were waiting to order their meal did she ease her tight muscles, but she was far from relaxed. Kitty alertly noticed the gunman from the saloon had followed them and taken a seat a couple of tables away. The waitress rushed to take his order first.

"Doc, I know some of what's goin' on. Scanlon moved in when Matt wasn't here to stop him. Is he okay? Wherever he is, does he know? Scanlon must think he's alive. He told me he plans to use me to lure Matt to his death, but not before he humiliates him."

"I was afraid of something like that. As far as I know Matt's in one piece. He and Chester left a few hours after you. If Matt suspected trouble he'd never have left Shiloh in charge. By now Scanlon's probably learned his whereabouts. Even if Matt were relatively close Scanlon's made it nigh on impossible to telegraph him that Dodge is in trouble. I tried and nearly got beat half to death for it," he stated matter-of-factly, leaning over her plate to pick up an untouched potato with his fork.

"Doc, what are you doing? All you had to do was ask."

"That's what I thought I was doing," he said lowering his voice and moving even closer. "Emmett Bowers managed to get my second coded message through to where we think Matt is but I don't know if he ever received it. There was no way he could reply directly. All he could do was send a wire to you to stay in St. Louis or at least out of town. Well, you're here. Of course you're rash enough not to listen," he whispered in her ear in response to the worry that flickered across her features.

"Curly, are you proposing again?" she cried in a mocking tone as she pulled away from him, his message received. "You know my heart belongs to another even if he's never coming back."

"I say you're well rid of that overgrown public servant," Doc retorted loudly. "He'd never give you the life you deserve, but then again, neither can I. I'm too old for that."

The two friends noticed their watcher rise. He would blab to his boss that Matt Dillon wasn't coming back. They went back to their meal with a relish the quality of the food didn't merit until reality struck. Scanlon would move in on her immediately rather than wait for Matt's return.


	6. Chapter 6 Homeward Bound at Last

Chapter 6 – Homeward Bound at Last

Each day spent trapped in the small town waiting for the trial was torture to Matt. He desperately wanted to ride north to save the two people closest to his heart and the town he'd sworn to protect with his life. That same oath to uphold the law and the presence of another dedicated lawman, Sheriff Benson, whom he knew would do exactly what Judge Cummings told him kept him in Redmoon. His conscience dictated he had to stay until the trial where he'd publically embarrass himself under oath for allowing the two sitting in the jail to kill a man and then steal four horses, two of them thoroughbreds, when he foolishly kicked them out of Dodge.

Matt and Chester had been away from Dodge a week before Wilson was finally well enough to testify. His testimony painted a black picture of all that Burke and Keller had attempted starting with stealing the first couple of horses. When his description of local events was added to Matt and Chester's revelation of the lies the two told to cover the initial theft and give credence to their reasons for wanting Jack Portis dead the jury had no problem rendering a guilty verdict. The two saddle bums had run out of folks they could hoodwink. All that remained was the sentencing.

"Mr. Burke, Mr. Keller, you've been found guilty by a jury of your peers of repeated horse theft, extortion and assault. It was your intention to use these crimes to gain control of Mr. Portis' profitable Wineglass Ranch. To that end you narrowly escaped a charge of murder only because you Mr. Burke coerced Mr. Portis into drawing first. I sentence you to 20 years in Yuma Prison and you Mr. Keller to 15 years in that facility. Sheriff Benson, you will hold the prisoners until a prison wagon arrives to transport them."

Matt breathed a sigh of relief. He had visions of Judge Cummings ordering him and Chester to escort Burke and Keller to Yuma, Arizona. After all it did fall under the duties of a US Marshal and the judge was thorough enough to send wires ahead to make sure the men from Dodge didn't pawn that duty off onto someone else the first chance they got. They could finally make a beeline for home.

Matt hadn't been idle while waiting for Cummings to release him and Chester to go home. He'd wired Kitty at her St. Louis hotel two days ago, but had no idea if she was still there. Even allowing for her need to be away, he couldn't see her spending more than five days shopping for herself and the Long Branch to sort things out. She was probably already home caught up in whatever havoc Burt Scanlon and his gang were visiting on his town. If Scanlon harmed her, he'd track down the man and kill him with his bare hands as a plain man, but hoped it wouldn't come to that. He told himself he didn't care if it meant ruining his life before his 31st birthday at the end of next month. To be honest, he'd never expected to see 30 when he took the job a mere year after the War or to fall in love despite all he did to avoid it.

The trip north was a reversal of their trip south except for the urgency. This time he wasn't simply soothing an ego bruised while carrying out his sworn duty. He had to prevent the unthinkable from happening. While he'd do everything in his power to protect Doc, Matt knew the crotchety man of late middle age was more likely to outlive him. Matt knew failing to protect Kitty from the evils that can befall a woman on the frontier would cut out a piece of his heart.

He and Chester were 30 miles from home. They'd ridden at a steady cantor the past two hours after a quick stop to fill their canteens. As if his thoughts suddenly took on a will of their own, Matt spurred his buckskin into a full gallop. Chester, after a moment of surprised hesitation, sent his chestnut racing after. Their horses' hooves barely got wet fording the Arkansas. Men and horses were winded when Matt pulled up 30 yards from a well-kept farmhouse, only slightly larger than a two-room cabin.

"Mr. Dillon, what are we doin' here? Fort Dodge is way on the other side of town."

"Chester, a troop of soldiers would take care of Scanlon's men but at the cost of many innocent lives. I'm hoping we can deal with him before anyone's killed."

Matt's sharp ears picked up the sound, even from the distance of 12 yards, of a door being unlocked, opened just long enough for someone to exit and be barred again. The man whose farm it was now stood on his front porch, his back to the locked door, pointing a double-barreled 12-guage shotgun at the two men leading their spent horses behind them. Neither doubted the farmer would shoot if they made any wrong moves.

"That's far enough. State your business. If I don't like it, your dead men."

"Roy, lower your rifle. It's Matt Dillon and Chester. We need your help to take back the town."

"Marshal, I don't know how you know 'bout Scanlon. It don't mean no never mind. He planned it all out careful like. He even sent a guard with Doc, who brought my ma in from the stage as a favor cause he was comin' anyway to look in on Clarey. I didn't want to risk goin' to town. A man with his wife a few weeks shy of birthin' can't be too careful. We can talk inside after I've seen to your horses."

Within 15 minutes the returning marshal and jailer were seated at the Hoffmann kitchen table with the farm couple while Roy's mother Lydia bustled about it setting heaping plates of stew, fresh bread to sop it up with and cups of coffee to wash it down in front of them. Chester was content to shovel it all down while making sure not to miss a word of the exchange between his boss and the farmer.

"I know I'm askin' a lot, but I could sure use you. I hope you'll at least let us borrow your wagon."

"Marshal, I'm willin' to take any risk short of dyin' if it will get rid of Scanlon. I can't see bringin' a child into a place where women, children and the old can't walk down the street in broad daylight without bein' harassed. If it's like that now, think what it'll be once them Texas cowboys get here."

"If things work out as planned, your family will be safe at Ma Smalley's for Doc to help bring the baby into the world. Meantime we can take down Scanlon's gang in a matter of hours with only a small chance of anybody getting seriously hurt," Matt said, hoping it was true.

As the afternoon sun began its descent, Clarissa Hoffmann was bundled into the family wagon with two men lying beside her under a tarp among the supplies needed for a prolonged stay in town. Lydia sat on the bench next to her son. Roy drove the buckboard slowly toward town, timing it so they reached the outskirts as day turned to dusk, but too soon for the street lamps to be lit.


	7. Chapter 7 Settling In

Chapter 7 – Settling In

Scanlon was enjoying being magnanimous now that Dodge City was his. He'd let the original hostages return to their homes. He'd also released the now recovered prisoners who'd been jailed for disobeying the new rules. Only Shiloh, the man Dillon had left in charge, remained locked in a cell. The citizens of Dodge and surrounding Ford County understood that any attempt at rebellion would result in them or their family members being immediately imprisoned or shot. He looked up from his chair on the boardwalk by the Dodge House entrance to see Jake Garner rushing toward him from Delmonico's.

"Don't worry boss. I didn't leave the redhead and doc alone in there. They said somethin' I reckoned you'd want to know right away. The old man told her that big marshal might not come back."

"That's interesting news," Scanlon mumbled almost inaudibly, thinking the doctor might be telling the truth. "I still want him to die a slow, painful death in front of the whole town if he ever shows his face around here. I believe I'll speed things up with the high and mighty Kitty Russell."

Burt Scanlon already controlled 95% of the money that came into the Long Branch, same as every other business in Dodge City. The time had come to make its beautiful co-owner his latest possession. Even though those who knew her best had been as tight lipped as the departed marshal's defiant yet beautiful girlfriend Scanlon had learned some basic fact. Her partner Bill Pence's honey Laura had let slip some information within earshot of Jones and Garner when she thought only Pence could hear. Miss Kitty, who they'd seen leaving on the Santa Fe, was the Russell on the sign above the classiest saloon in town and lived in a set of rooms upstairs.

Meanwhile, inside Delmonico's, Doc and Kitty paused over their pie as Garner rushed outside toward Scanlon. The sickening fact dawned on them that Scanlon most probably no longer had a reason to bide his time. Moments later the gang leader also concluded he had no need to wait. He could take the woman like his men had the working girls in every saloon and gambling house in town along with a few of the comely daughters of the locals with a few restrictions he'd set. They could only go so far with the daughters of the most influential citizens. Their leader wanted the girls' fathers to cooperate, not hate so strongly that only how to retaliate would fill their heads.

Doc and Kitty were well aware of what lay in store as they left the restaurant. The wily physician thought her feigning an illness so he could keep her in his spare room would at least delay the inevitable. Predictably, she wanted no part of his scheme. The feisty 24-year-old had survived such men since she was a girl and wasn't about to put off the inevitable. She would fight off Scanlon on her terms for as long as she could. Reluctantly, knowing he couldn't sway her, Doc escorted Kitty to the Long Branch.

Burt Scanlon reflected on how easy it had been to take over the cow town ten days ago as he patiently waited for the town's doctor to return to his office. Once he scared the citizens into obeying it was easy to maintain control. Dodge City now had more than a dead line where discharging firearms was subject to confiscation of the weapon, a night in jail and a fine. Under his rules everyone except his men were prohibited from carrying weapons, other than pocketknives, anywhere within the city limits. If a rider for one of the ranches or a farmer came to town armed he was forced to hand it over at one of four entry points – either end of the main commercial thoroughfare Front Street, the bridge end of Bridge Street and First Street north of the Santa Fe depot. Anyone not stopped at those entry points would have no choice but to comply at the livery, exiting the train or stage and, as a last resort, at the jail. Their weapons would be returned when they informed the jailhouse, which always had a man sitting at the departed marshal's desk or napping on the cot, they were leaving. At least one of his men would make sure they left. Visiting soldiers were exempt so the army wouldn't raise a ruckus.

Like he was doing now, Scanlon and his men kept the main businesses under surveillance. He stationed his men where they could watch people coming and going into multiple buildings. He assigned men to the stage depot based on arrival and departure schedules. The livery, bank, best hotel, and the combined post and telegraph office and dispatch office at the train station were the most closely watched. He'd deliberately left the telegraph wires intact so outsiders, especially those bringing in wealth, wouldn't be alerted anything had changed. To make sure no telegram or letter contained a plea to free Dodge from the criminal mob that had usurped Matt Dillon's authority, a Scanlon man remained inside the post/telegraph office and the auxiliary telegraph office at the train station whenever the buildings were occupied. Otherwise his men were free to occupy their time in the saloons, gambling houses and other entertainment venues. Scanlon himself relieved the bank of all but 5% of the money deposited each day by the business owners. Depositors were free to pick up their carefully calculated share left them each morning when the bank opened.

Scanlon took into account business needed people to spend money. Therefore, individuals were allowed to keep their cash from goods they brought in and were left alone unless their demeanor made it likely they'd cause trouble. Those folks were always within eyesight of at least one man while they remained within the town limits. Chief among them was Doc Adams, the only man followed to his patients' homes to make sure he didn't send a healthy family member off to the fort for help.

Scanlon smiled as he watched the doctor leave the Long Branch to be confronted by a harried farmer whose wife was expecting their first child. The man spoke loud enough that even sitting across the street he had no trouble hearing Hoffmann wanted the doctor to tend to his Clarey who he'd just brought to stay at Ma Smalley's. Scanlon waited for the doctor to retrieve his medical bag. As soon as the two men rushed down the boardwalk toward the boardinghouse he crossed Front Street to enter the Long Branch.

Scanlon had planned ahead when it came to Kitty. He left instructions at the bank, as soon as he learned Kitty and Matt Dillon's girl were the same person, to allow the saloon to keep only 2.5% aside for her partner Bill Pence. Pence was informed in a way that left no doubt his girlfriend Laura Simmons would get a beating or worse if he objected and he would be thrown in jail after being forced to watch. Now that he'd seen Kitty for himself and it was possible Dillon wouldn't return, Scanlon saw no reason to wait to make a serious move on the redhead until the herds to arrived. If the government sent a new man to keep order when Dodge City was most vulnerable it would work to his advantage. Without Dillon's experience handling drovers fresh from three months on the trail, the newly appointed marshal would see him as the man who kept the town in line and was the key to staying alive. Dillon, if he returned, would do his job. His reputation was the badge came first so he'd concentrate on keeping the Texans in line. Taking his girl was merely added leverage. Later, when the Texans left and Dodge City quieted down, Dillon would still need killing because that dedication to enforcing the law would force him to face the man who held his town hostage and taken his girl.


	8. Chapter 8 Matt's Plan Is Underway

Chapter 8 – Matt Implements His Plan

The farm family had locked up the house and fed the stock before leaving. Roy Hoffmann, his mother Lydia beside him and his wife lying in the back, her head just visible outside the tarp, drove the buckboard northwest toward where Emmett Bowers' large ranch abutted the farm rather than east toward town. It would save valuable time if they didn't have to travel as far as the ranch house to ask one of their neighbor's riders to see to feeding the animals and otherwise make sure the place didn't look abandoned. Luck was with them. Slim Watkins waved as they approached the barbed wire fence Roy had erected last year to keep Bowers' cattle from stomping on and eating his crops.

After making the necessary arrangements, Roy turned his rig toward Dodge. He drove past Boot Hill, the burial ground that was mostly for those who met a violent death, before driving south on Third Avenue to Walnut Street. Burt Scanlon must have felt nobody would willingly ride by the notorious cemetery because none of his men were there to stop their progress. The woman sitting beside Roy on the buckboard bench asked who was buried there. Her son's response only confirmed Lydia Hoffmann's beliefs about the community no matter what Kitty Russell had told her during the trip from Missouri. What she witnessed upon arriving in town and this unkempt burial ground convinced her there was more than a grain of truth to the rumors. Dodge City deserved its sordid reputation.

At Walnut, Matt quickly scrambled out from under the tarp to the ground while Chester literally hopped out of the wagon. Both men scooted toward the alley that ran between Third and Bridge Streets to Matt's room. Chester now carried the rifle he had secured in the saddle boot since they left Dodge ten days ago. Leaving his boss, he continued on Walnut past Bridge to the alley that led to the side door of the jailhouse. It allowed entry into the office directly behind Matt's desk. Meanwhile Matt turned off Walnut to head straight for the exterior entrance to his room where he could quickly change into darker clothes. While none of Scanlon's men were stationed along residential streets like Third or Walnut, he'd need to surprise them as he made his way toward the back stairs of the Long Branch. He hoped Chester wasn't spotted as his assistant before he got to the jail.

Roy, having clandestinely deposited his armed passengers at the designated intersection, continued down Third, past Chestnut, to Front Street and Ma Smalley's boardinghouse. He helped his mother down only to be met by the man currently assigned to watch for anyone trying to enter town from the west. If the watcher missed spotting people arriving at Moss Grimmack's livery, he'd catch them at Ma's as they made their way down Dodge City's main street. The stocky, dark-haired man with a scar across his left cheek drew his pistol. He was beside Roy before the farmer reached the rear of his wagon. The bully found nothing more than a very pregnant woman, an irate yet frightened matron left standing beside the vehicle and an unarmed farmer concerned for the wellbeing of his family. The indignant ruckus Roy raised when he objected to the gunman frightening his womenfolk brought Ma and several tenants to the front porch to see what all the fuss was about.

Although raising a stink was part of Matt's plan, Roy wasn't acting. The armed man's actions riled him. Despite the gun the outlaw held, Ma's tenants backed his verbal tirade without thinking of the consequences that would surely follow. A couple men plucked up enough courage to grab the ruffian from behind. After disarming him, they held the struggling outlaw so Roy could have the pleasure of punching him in the jaw and knocking him out. While most folks remained distracted by Roy's actions, Lydia and Ma helped Clarey inside to an empty ground floor room and then into bed. A whiskey drummer, Ted Carnegie, not liking how he'd been fleeced out of most of his profits when he deposited them at the bank, helped bring the family's bags to the room and then led the wagon to Moss' stable.

While the outwardly unassuming Carnegie took charge of the outlaw's gun and saw to it the man remained helpless until the angry farmer returned with the town doctor Roy raced down the street toward that very man's office. He met up with the physician as he exited the Long Branch to loudly inform him of the impending birth. The two men, as soon as the doctor retrieved his medical bag, sped down the boardwalk as fast as Doc's shuffle would allow. Upon his return to Ma's Roy, feeling better about Matt's plan now it had successfully begun and knowing Ted would keep his mother and wife safe while he played his part, dragged the semi-conscious outlaw with him to the jail.

By the time made Roy reached the back door of the jail with his burden, Chester had seized the building without anybody seeing him. Although Scanlon made sure at least one man was always inside the jail, he didn't keep a very close eye on anywhere other than the front door. Even if someone managed to break in through the rear or side doors the outlaw leader was certain the noise would alert at the very least his man inside or the one watching the front door. No one could successfully break the prisoners out or smuggle in a weapon. As an added precaution he'd ordered boards nailed across the barred windows. The cells were darker, but no weapon could be thrown inside. He knew neither the back nor side door could be unlocked because he controlled all the keys so any visitor needed a reason before being admitted.

Matt's key was the one Shiloh had been forced to turn over to the usurpers. Doc had voluntarily surrendered the spare but Chester had kept his key. After all, to the jailer this building was his home. Therefore, he knew the idiosyncrasies of each of the three doors. Wiggling the key before turning it clockwise in the lock was the secret to opening the side door without a sound. If you simply inserted it and turned, the lock would squeak even if it had been recently oiled. He pulled the now unlocked door towards him and stepped through, putting his rifle barrel against the rear of the skull that was conveniently tilted toward him. The body attached to the head topped with greasy, murky brown hair was an inch or so shorter than Chester, but just as slimly built. He started when he became aware of the gun, nearly losing his balance in the process. The pretend lawman's feet slipped off the corner of Matt's desk to reveal him playing with a pair of handcuffs.

"You'll be needin' them later," Chester told him in his most authoritative voice that fell far short of the one he so admired in his boss. "For now all yah need do is keep quiet, git up slowly and walk toward the cells. Grab them keys on the way. One sound and you'll feel the barrel of this rifle up the side of yer head."

The scumbag playing at being marshal for his boss Scanlon obeyed. He took the keys, opened the door between the office and cells and walked toward the only occupied one. Shiloh, a man not over five-foot seven with a mustache and sideburns, who showed signs of a previous beating, sat on the cot inside it and smiled at the sight before him. Chester was acting as if he knew what he was doing. Shiloh rose to his full height, feeling cocky. The no longer young, but not yet middle aged in appearance man knew the marshal had returned to reclaim his town. Following Chester's orders, the unkempt scoundrel exchanged places and keys with Shiloh. The man Matt had left in charge while he and Chester brought Burke and Keller to justice locked the cell door in satisfaction.

Meanwhile Matt, now dressed in dark clothes, glided his big frame along building walls, darting from shadow to shadow. He remained alert as he moved along the back alleys he knew so well that separated his room at Ma's from Kitty's above the Long Branch. Along the way he subdued three of Scanlon's men, one behind the bank, one by the Long Branch privy and one under the saloon's back stairs. The first leaned against the privy wall, his attention focused on Jonas' storeroom. The other watched for anyone approaching or leaving via the saloon stairs. Matt didn't waste time tying or gagging them, trusting the butt of his Peacemaker would render them unconscious until they could be dragged to a cell. Only Scanlon and seven more remained to be dealt with.

The marshal crept up the back stairs cautiously, making sure he avoided any that squeaked or crackled when stepped on. As expected the door at the top was locked so, when combined with the man watching the back stairs, access to Kitty's girls was only from inside the saloon. Matt smiled to himself as he turned the key that would open it. One of the things he'd done upon his official appointment was to ask the saloon, gambling establishment and dancehall owners for keys to their nonpublic entrances so he could surreptitiously enter in case of trouble. Once inside the Long Branch upstairs hall it was only moments before his giant steps brought him to Kitty's door. He took out the key she recently gave him. From the sounds he hoped he'd arrived in time.


	9. Chapter 9 An Inevitable Clash

Chapter 9 – An Inevitable Clash

Burt Scanlon observed Front Street from his chair by the entrance to the Dodge House, which included watching Hank Jones and Jake Garner going about his business. He gave all the orders, but those two were the ones he trusted the most. Scanlon watched them enter the Long Branch then stepped across the dirt street for a closer view. Both men leaned their backs against the bar a shot glass in their right hands and a bottle on the polished wood between them eying the employees and customers. They seemed to be alert for anything, but he knew the two were focused on a pair of attractive working girls flirtatiously serving drinks in hopes one of the customers had the cash to pay for a trip upstairs before Jones and Garner cornered them. The two soiled doves learned the day Scanlon arrived that the rules had changed. He and his gang didn't pay for their pleasure.

Scanlon didn't wait for his two top flunkies to haul the Long Branch girls upstairs. He stepped through the batwing doors to draw their attention back to their work from their pleasure. Once he caught their eye he motioned for them to join him. Outside the three men stood so they could easily spot anyone exiting or entering the saloon or coming from either direction along Front Street. For the moment nobody was within earshot as long as they kept their voices down.

"Boys, I want you to take the redhead to her room as soon as there's backup to relieve you. It's dark enough that nobody will be coming into town from the south by crossing the river at the end of Bridge Street and no trains are due until tomorrow so the men at the north end of Railroad Avenue will be free as well. Any stage passengers are visible from here. Two of them can patrol the street. When you see the other two enter the saloon, that's your signal to move in on the recently arrived female half of the Long Branch ownership."

"I don't know what we did to deserve it, but can we double up on her?" Jones asked.

"Now that's a fine idea!" Garner added with a smirk before his boss could answer the question.

"Nope" he barked, glowering at them. "You'll do nothin' more than take away her key and lock her in. Then give it to me. Since the Long Branch will be covered your job will be to keep an eye on the street and the men covering the entrances to the other pleasure spots. I'll be unavailable while I take my own pleasure."

Ten minutes later Scanlon, key in hand, climbed the Long Branch inside stairs to Kitty's room. He didn't bother to announce his arrival. Even so, it didn't surprise her. She heard him turn the key in the lock. Kitty didn't waste her time after she was locked in. She prepared for her expected yet unwanted visitor as best she could. The derringer that had been in her vanity drawer was gone. The Scanlon gang confiscated it when they searched for hidden weapons while she was in St. Louis. The heavy poker by the fireplace would have to do. Men like Scanlon wouldn't believe a woman would ever think to use it for anything but its intended purpose.

Once inside the room Burt Scanlon calmly relocked the door and hung his gun belt on the peg reserved for Matt Dillon's gun belt. Only then did he turn to face her directly, failing at first to notice her hands weren't empty. He closed the distance from his side of the room as she stepped forward to strike him. Although he wasn't as big as Matt, he was strong and quick. He parried Kitty's blow by simultaneously stepping to the side and drawing his six-gun, using it to force the poker downward. With his next step he struck her arm with the revolver, the sudden pain causing her weapon to clatter to the floor. Holstering the gun, he then easily pinned her against the wall between her vanity and the door to the water closet.

"You're quite a tiger. I wouldn't want you to lose that spunk. It will make the beatings more enjoyable."

"I figured you for the sort of coward who beats a woman to get what he wants from her. A real man tries his best to please her so she'll want to fulfill his desires."

"I reckon you think that lawman of yours is a real man. Any man shaves his face to hide the wispy growth that would otherwise be visible is at most three-quarters of a man, no matter his size. You'll know what I mean after tonight."

Kitty managed to free her right arm long enough to scratch Scanlon on his left cheek, starting at his eye. When her nails caught on the hairs of his mustache he was able to grab her arm again. He forced it behind her while drawing her body toward him, creating space between her and the wall. That was a mistake. She used the momentum to shove him backwards and momentarily release her. Kitty quickly rushed toward where the poker lay. He was too fast. He grabbed her from behind as she bent to grasp it, forcing her erect.

"I'll fight you every inch of the way. I don't care how much you beat me. I'll never be yours!" she screamed at him as he spun her around to face him again.

"Ah, but you already are. Your money's all mine. I've collected it from what your partner put in the bank, leaving him his two and a half percent. As for you, you're body's mine starting tonight. I know that big lug of a law dog won't be comin' back any time soon. My men heard you and the old man talkin'. If he returns your marshal's a dead man the minute he shows his face in my town."

Kitty tried again to get loose but all she was able to do was scratch the other side of his face, drawing blood this time, when she stomped on his foot with her high heel and he momentarily released her left arm. When he reacted to the pain she raised a knee to smash into his privates but he again moved faster than she thought he could. This time his fist punched her stomach sending her toppling backward onto the bed. During their struggles Scanlon somehow maneuvered them to within a couple feet of it. Neither heard a key turn in the lock nor noticed the door fly open.

Scanlon was leaning over the now prone woman, pawing at her dress, when a strong left hand grabbed him by the collar. Matt held him long enough to put himself between the outlaw and Kitty before unleashing a powerful right that sent the self-proclaimed ruler of Dodge crashing to the floor. The angry marshal picked him up only to strike him again. This time he rendered the scumbag unconscious.

"Kitty, are you okay? If I'm too late to stop him hurting you I'll…."

"Relax, Cowboy. "Your timing couldn't be better. Now get that piece of trash out of here before I do to him while he's unconscious what I didn't give you a chance to say you'd do."

"See yah later," Matt replied as he stuck Scanlon's gun in his waistband, threw the gun belt over his shoulder and tossed the contents of the water pitcher sitting on a nearby stand at the prone outlaw's head. He then yanked the just beginning to stir excuse for a man to his feet and marched him out Kitty's door, grabbing the key from Scanlon's vest pocket and flinging it toward the room's round table before leaving.

"Call your boys," Matt ordered when they left the boardwalk for the middle of Front Street.

Scanlon hesitated until he heard the distinctive click of the hammer on Matt's gun being pulled back. He obeyed, yelling for them to assemble by the Dodge House. He didn't know this particular marshal wouldn't kill an unarmed man as tempting as it might be because of what he'd almost done to the redhead upstairs in the Long Branch. Scanlon's remaining gang members, led by Jones and Garner, came in answer to his summons. The seven men fanned out facing their boss who was held in place by the big man's encircling left arm and right arm pointing a gun at his head. Jones and Garner, at either end of the line, tried to surreptitiously step sideways onto the nearest portion of the boardwalk to try to sneak behind the man whose head, from the nose up, was visible above their leader. They stopped at the sound of a shotgun being cocked.

"Smart of you not to do anything foolish. Drop your guns. The four men behind you will show you the way to jail," Matt stated authoritatively.

Even if they'd thought of resisting, since they outnumbered the marshal's recruits, the Scanlon gang was through. Citizens began pouring onto the street to grab up the discarded guns of the men who'd held Dodge City in thrall for ten days. Matt followed after the prisoners with Scanlon. Soon 13 men were crowded into three cells designed to hold no more than two each for any longer than a few hours.

The US Marshal in Dodge finally relaxed. Until he shifted these men to Fort Dodge to await trial the job wasn't over. He hoped they'd be convicted before the first of the herds arrived. He and Kitty needed to catch up on lost time. If she were up to it they'd eat at Delmonico's, or preferably partake of a quiet catered supper in her room.

"Chester, you and Shiloh keep an eye on things. One of you can take care of rounds. I'm goin' to supper and then to bed early."


	10. Chapter 10 Epilogue

Chapter 10 – Epilogue

Matt Dillon sought a bed after leaving the prisoners and late rounds in the hands of Chester and Shiloh. However, it wasn't the narrow bed in his room. It was Kitty Russell's large bed. After what had almost happened the couple needed the comfort they found only in each other's arms. The one official act he performed before joining Kitty was to send a telegram to Fort Dodge requesting use of their stockade to accommodate 13 more prisoners the following morning, Friday April 14, 1871. He waited five minutes, just long enough to receive a reply granting him permission.

Leaving the sleeping redhead, Matt dressed as quietly as he could and headed down the hall to the backstairs of the Long Branch. He needed to be in his office before the town awakened. Within a half-hour, he, Chester and Shiloh were riding into the rising sun with their prisoners, leaving the Dodge City jail empty until some drunk decided to call his poker companion out or shoot up one of the saloons just for the fun of it. Matt knew it wouldn't be long until that sort of thing happened several times a night. The town was already starting to fill up with spoilers attracted by the soon to arrive increasing numbers of Texas cowboys. The Texans would be out for a good time after spending three months with nothing but dust and temperamental longhorns. He only hoped Dodge remained relatively quiet until after the trial of the Scanlon gang.

The marshal got his wish. Less than two weeks later he watched from the top step of Doc's office, where he'd been having coffee with Kitty and Doc, as a small cavalry troop escorted 13 men to the Long Branch to stand trial. Bill Pence had already admitted the judge and jury. Now that their marshal had returned those newly courageous citizens bore witness to who committed the murders, many assaults, flagrant robbery, including the bank, and who ordered it when he didn't take care of it himself. Even a few outsiders arrived by stage or train to testify to the crimes perpetrated by the gang in other towns, counties, states and territories. Matt and Kitty's testimony about Scanlon's attempted rape, taken with all the other witness accounts, left the jury, made up of Ford County farmers and ranchers who'd experienced nothing more than having their weapons confiscated for the duration of their stay in town, little to discuss. They'd barely begun their deliberations in an upstairs room before they were back in their chairs with a guilty verdict on all counts.

Since the ten prisoners who would live needed to be housed somewhere until they could be transported to serve their time in Leavenworth, they were remanded back to Fort Dodge. The judge, after conferring with the War Department and the governors of the states and territories that felt the sting of the gang's crimes, decided the three condemned men should hang on federal land rather than in a town such as Hays or Dodge City. Fort Dodge was closest. While the rest of the gang awaited the arrival of the prison wagons from the federal penitentiary on Thursday April 27th, the ultimate sentence was carried out against Burt Scanlon, Hank Jones and Jake Garner.

Three evenings later Matt and Kitty looked forward to their last hope for an uninterrupted night together for months to come. While not the first, the largest so far of the Texas outfits was camped across the Arkansas River waiting to drive 1,000 head of cattle to the stockyards by the train depot, get paid three months hard-earned pay at $30 a month and found and spend it as rapidly as possible drinking, gambling and enjoying the girls who worked in the places known for titillating entertainment. Matt, with Chester's help, would soon have his hands full staying alive while keeping as many of them as possible from killing each other and the hangers on that fed off of them. Simultaneously Kitty and her partner Bill would be running themselves ragged, hoping they took in more than their customers destroyed.

The young couple enjoyed an interruption free Sunday evening at the start of the annual season that allowed Dodge City to thrive. They ate a leisurely supper at a corner table in Delmonico's before Matt escorted Kitty to the Long Branch to face the evening crowd. He even kept his promise to see her later, joining her, Doc and Chester for beers and conversation in the quiet mostly empty saloon. After quickly checking doors were locked and no noise came from where it shouldn't to complete the late rounds Matt sent his yawning assistant to his cot in the office. Alone and through for the night Matt climbed the back stairs to quietly make his way to one particular door. He knocked softly to let her know he'd arrived and without waiting for a response turned his key in the lock.

"You should try this whiskey I ordered for special customers," she said handing him a glass of caramel colored liquid as soon as he'd locked the door and hung his hat and gun belt on the pegs by it.

"The marshal in this town might object if you hand this out privately too often," he replied after swallowing his mouthful of the sipping whiskey and following it with that boyish grin she loved.

An hour later they settled in for the night. In unison the couple turned to dim the lamp on the nightstand on either side of the bed before turning toward each other to embrace, their mouths joining in a soft kiss. That first kissed led to other deeper kisses and a frenetic bonding that was repeated until both were tired enough to fall into a deep sleep.

The next morning Matt, Kitty, Doc and Chester were finishing breakfast in Delmonico's when Roy Hoffmann rushed to their table yelling for Doc to come quickly. All four raced after the farmer to Ma Smalley's, Doc arriving a few minutes later, not just because he moved slower. He also had to grab his medical bag from his office. While Kitty, Ma and Lydia assisted with the birth Matt and Chester watched the father to be pace Ma's parlor from one end to the other. Two hours later a smiling grandmother came from the room assigned to Roy and Clarissa.

"Roy, you're the father of a healthy boy. Both mother and child are doing well. Go, meet your child!" Lydia ordered her still anxious younger son. "Marshal, Mr. Goode you'll have to wait your turn."

"Lydia, that's one of the hardest things for those two to do," Kitty remarked as she and Doc joined them in the parlor while Ma made her way to her kitchen to fetch coffee and cookies. "The only reason they didn't follow Roy is babies make them nervous. It reminds one of them in particular about a certain legally binding ceremony," she added, giving Matt a smug smirk as she moved to his side.

"No need to explain them to me. I've had my share of dealings with men," Lydia retorted. "If you're too impatient to wait for the christening to learn my grandson's name, it's Carlton Philip. Roy and Clarey chose to name him for his grandfathers while you, Marshal Dillon, rid the town of the latest batch. When I first arrived here I thought Kitty was trying to whitewash an ugly community that more than lived up to its reputation. After witnessing the havoc wrought by the Scanlon gang before seeing them brought to justice with a minimum of violence, I find there's a grain of truth in both what Kitty said during our stage trip and in Dodge City's reputation. I'm happy to call it home."


End file.
